


In the Quiet of the Night

by Errant_Espionage



Category: Avengers, Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Night Terrors, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Protective Natasha Romanov, Romance, Sleepy Cuddles, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 23:39:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17334533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Errant_Espionage/pseuds/Errant_Espionage
Summary: In which friends fight, and makeup, and maybe become a little something more.





	In the Quiet of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> So I spent 5 hours typing this on my phone. I completely altered the timeline and the way Natasha and Steve get to know each other but hey, it's fan fiction and bends easily to my will. I wrote this as a sort of introduction the way that Kitty and Steve's somewhat dysfunctional, but always loveable relationship began to blossom. As always, I own nothing, only Kitty.

   Monday mornings are arguably the worst. It didn’t matter where it was, what was going on, they sucked. They sucked way worse when you had already been working since three in the morning. Not that I should really complain, I do it to myself. I work better alone, at night when there’s usually only cleaning crew shuffling through the building. Now the mid-morning was upon me and I was ready for a nap. I looked longingly at the couch tucked in the corner of my office but groaned when I realized I was right in the middle of this stupid report I had to finish before any rest could come. I slammed my head on the sturdy oak desk. My eyes were closed and I was almost asleep when I heavy knock resounded through the office. The visitor didn’t wait for a reply, just let themselves stroll in. 

   I perked up when Natasha Romanov sashayed in, exuding her usual air of confidence. She was shockingly out of uniform, dressed in a pair of black leggings, a green t-shirt and black track jacket zipped up over it. Her long fiery hair was loose around her shoulders, styled pin straight today. Despite this casual look I knew she still had a gun strapped to her back and at least one knife tucked into her short black boots. In her hand was the biggest cup of coffee I’d ever seen. Behind her trailed Steve Rogers, an inquisitive look affixed to his features.

  
   “Good morning sunshine. Here, I brought you this. Clint said he saw you skulking around here in the dark, figured you could use it by now.” She passed the steaming beverage over the desk to my eager hands. I inhaled the rich scent of the black coffee and sighed contentedly.

  
   “I could kiss you Romanoff.” She bore a cheeky grinned, leaning slightly over the desk before purring out “And I’d accept your payment.” Steve looked away, clearly uncomfortable. I stuck my tongue out at her and gestured toward the super soldier.

  
   “You can’t do that to him. He doesn’t get your humor yet.” She merely shrugged before throwing herself into the chair in front of my desk, kicking her feet up on my stacks of papers. I shot her a pointed glare but she ignored it. Steve was walking around the office admiring the knick-knacks I had spread throughout it, but keeping silent as he took in our exchange.

  
   “What are you doing?” The deadly assassin helped herself to a piece of mint candy from the dish on my desk and I pushed myself away from the desk accepting the fact I wasn’t getting any work done if Natasha was bored. “I’m _working_. What are you doing?”

   “I’m on babysitting duty.” Steve frowned at her bored tone and I threw him a sympathetic look over the Russian’s head. “I thought Cap might want to see your lair. He likes books too.” Steve seemed confused as there weren’t very many books in the area he was currently standing in.

  
   “They aren’t just _books_ Natasha. They’re texts. Documents full of nearly a century of research, many of which I have painstakingly written.” I chide her but she seems unperturbed by my words. She shrugs knowing better than to argue with me over the importance of the countless shelves I maintain order over.

  
   “Fine, fine. Sorry. Now will you show him?” I conceded and rose from my chair. When I reached Steve I gently moved him out of the way so I could get to the bookcase he was parked in front of. I pulled gently pulled down on the spine of an ancient dictionary that elicited a small click before the wall rumbled lowly, vibrating under my fingertips. When the rumbling stopped I pushed firmly against the case and it noisily slid to the side allowing access to the hidden room beyond. Steve gasped as he took in the sight.

  
   The room was a cavernous rotunda, open in the middle so one could see the multiple snaking levels of the room. There were no freestanding shelves, all of them built in the curvature of the room. A few large tables filled the middles of the different levels. A massive crystal chandelier was the centerpiece of the room hanging down the center casting amber lighting onto the dark wooden shelving. Around us many agents bustled around, plucking various books of shelves. A few of my own team were huddled at one of the tables in the center, at least ten books spread out among them while they scribbled way in notebooks.

  
   “Welcome to my playground Captain Rogers!” I flung my arms out wildly to present my workspace.

  
   “Wow” He was spinning in slow circles, trying to take it all in. I grabbed his elbow and dragged him over to a smaller shelf to the right only about a quarter full.

  
   “These are my babies!” I pulled one of the thick tomes from the shelf and presented it to him proudly. He slowly took the black bound book from my hands, running a large hand over the cover.

  
   “Captain America: A Brief History. Not very brief.” True, the book was near nine hundred pages.

  
   “Well, it’s not exactly your lazy Sunday read.” I gently removed the book from his hands and back into its place on the shelf. I don’t know what I was expecting when I showed him the book. Did I expect him to be pleased? To be thankful to me? Whatever it was I was hoping for, it wasn’t what I received. When I looked back to him, he looked...angry. I’d only known the man for a few months, so I was sure I hadn’t come close to seeing the physical manifestations of all his emotions, but this one was unmistakable. “Captain Rogers?” He pried his eyes off the dark gray carpet his eyes were fixed on. The bright blue pools met my forest green ones and I almost took a step back.

  
   “How can you write a book on someone’s life you’ve never met, and then put it on display for everyone to read? What gives you the right?” I took a step forward, blood boiling in my veins.

  
   “I don’t know if you’re aware Captain, but historians have been writing biographies since the dawn of time. And it’s not like I sold it off to a publishing company, it’s here for SHIELD agents to learn from.” His eyes steeled even more and he took a challenging step in my direction.

  
   “You.Had.No.Right.’” He ground out pointing a large finger in my direction. I hadn’t noticed that we were yelling until Natasha had to yell even louder to get our attention. I was breathing heavily, letting my anger get the best of me. I glanced around the library to find all the current inhabitants staring at us. Two of the agents on my team were halfway standing, ready to interfere if they had to.

  
   Natasha stood between us a hand pressed firmly into each of our chests. Steve pulled away from her touch so stalk around us and grab his biography off the shelf and while looking directly into my eyes, he began ripping the book to shreds. I shrieked and with the noise came a rumbling shake of thunder so loud it shook the building. The room was enveloped in darkness from the black clouds building over the glass roof.

  
  “Are you bloody well out of your mind?!” I tried not to notice the thick accent that laced my words focusing my energy on lunging forward at the Captain but Natasha’s screaming and the many hands of my unit pulling me back thwarted my efforts. 

  “Get her out of here Thomas!” Natasha shoved the agent who currently had me restrained towards the hidden bookcase and she wheeled back around to Steve but I never got to see the wrath I hoped she brought down on him.

  
   Agent Brody Thomas. He was a twenty-nine year old with multiple degrees in history and an accomplished field agent. A stroke of bad luck on a mission earned him a bullet in his spine that could have killed or paralyzed him. He was lucky, left only with a limp. He was definitely proving to me he could still be an asset in the field if he ever wanted to make a comeback. If I were honest with myself, I could throw him through the floor so hard he’d end up in the basement’s basement but that’s not who my rage was directed at. After he had none too gently shoved me through the doorway he slammed the sliding door shut only turning once he hurt the locking mechanism click.

  
   “Are you out of your mind? He could have snapped your neck before you had the chance to scream!” I ignored him as I paced through the office, kicking furniture and knocking things off shelves in a blind rage. To Brody’s credit, he stood calmly and quietly, letting me work it all out.

  
   “Did you see what he did? Do you have any idea how long I worked on that?” Brody sighed and motioned for me to sit on the couch. I wanted to protest but did as he asked. I raked a hand through my hair which pulled the loose bun out making the tangle of waves fall all over the place. He threw himself next me to carefully resting a hand on my shoulder.

  
   Where Steve was all broad and obvious muscle, Brody was much more lean. He was probably as tall, but not nearly as wide. He had a kind, boyish face with mocha eyes that were a few shades darker than his skin. I didn’t require my team to wear a uniform unless the occasion called for it specifically, but he did have on his SHIELD ball cap over his freshly buzzed head. He sighed before speaking again, measuring his words carefully so as not to set me off again.

  
   “I know how long it took you, and I know you’re upset. That was a real dick move. But hey, we can bind up a new one for you. It’s not like it was the only copy. We can do it tonight if you want, I got no plans.” I breathed out a shaky breath, shaking my head to decline his offer.

  
   “You may not think you have plans tonight, but I’m positive Julia thinks otherwise.” The knowing look made him blush, knowing my words about his new girlfriend from the ballistics team were probably true. “I’m not reprinting the book Brody.”

  
   “Don’t give him that satisfaction! Put that self-absorbed asshole back in his place. C’mon you’re like the only person who can scare Director Fury. If anyone can do it, you can.” He had pulled my hands into his and shook them furiously to drive the point home. I squeezed his hands back lightly and stood from the couch.

  
   I started to pick up the mess I’d created from my tantrum, starting with the bookshelf I didn’t even remember tipping over. “I’m a big girl Brody, don’t you worry about me. Now get outta here, I need those notes by tomorrow.” He smiled sadly but did as I asked only stopping briefly to ruffle my hair softly.

  
   When it was just me, in the center of the mess I’d created, I cried. I cried for that stupid book, for my stupidity, and for upsetting Steve. Making friends didn’t come easily for me. I knew I could be intimidating, and standoffish, but I knew I would never intentionally hurt someone, which just made me angry all over again for being made to look like the bad guy.  
An hour later, the mess cleaned, I decided I had finally earned my nap. My eyes were heavy and puffy from crying and exhaustion and I had hoped a good nap would clear my head. And so I pulled the blanket up to my chin and let myself drift into a fitful sleep, dreaming mostly of home.

  
   An off feeling finally pulled me back into consciousness. It was the feeling you get when someone was watching you from across the room. I slowly pushed my body up from the couch and peered around the dimly lit room until my eyes found the culprit. Sitting at my desk, leaning far back in the chair with his arms crossed over his chest was Tony Stark. He didn’t look happy.

  
   “What are you doing here?” He sat forward in the chair and placed his elbows on the desktop. I pushed myself into a sitting position and tried to push the blooming pain in temples away with my finger tips.

  
   “Well, I got an interesting call from Director Fury.”

  
   “Yeah, I bet you did. Surprised he’s not here too.”

  
   “Oh, trust me, he wanted to be. I convinced him to keep this a family matter.” All I could do was scoff. “Do you want a thank-you?” He slammed his hands on the desk causing me to jump. He remained silent as he opened one of the desk drawers to pull out the bottle of scotch and two glasses I kept hidden within it. He deftly poured the amber liquid into the glasses like the pro he was. He rounded the desk in a few steps and held one of the drinks out to me, shaking it a little until I accepted it. He sat down beside me with a deep sigh. It was the sigh he reserved for when he was disappointed in me.

  
  “What I want, is a little more consideration for the situation you’re in. Heard there was a freak thunderstorm today. I also heard you let your Asgardian show.” He took a long drink of his scotch, wincing as it burned his throat on the way down.

  
   “The accent slips sometimes. I can’t help it.” My own glass was still full, clutched tightly in between my hands. Tony plucked it from my hands, draining it in one go.

  
   “The accent slips when you turn into a little rage monster, which you obviously did. But the little trick you did with the storm, that’s bigger than an Asgardian tongue slip.” I stared dejectedly at my now empty hands, feeling slightly ashamed. Tony reached over to pull my right hand into his left.

  
  “I know, I didn’t mean-“

  
  “I know you didn’t. Lucky for you, no one really seemed to notice. They were too distracted by you trying to murder the newly reserected Captain America.” He shifted so he had one leg bent on the couch in order to face me. He gently turned my face to look at him. I was taken by surprise when he took his index finger and tapped me on the tip of my nose. “I heard he attacked your books.”

  
  “No, he murdered my book.” I mumbled quietly.

  
  “Well murdering him isn’t exactly a reasonable reaction to that pumpkin.” I curled my lip at the nickname which made him crack a smile. Once he smiled, the argument was usually over. Neither of us had won this round. He stood slowly and stretched eliciting cracks up and down his spine and loud groan. “I’m going home now. If Fury asked, I grounded you for a week and took away your toys. Are you coming?” I shook my head no which made him frown.

  
   “I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

  
   “It’s 11:30, Kitty. It’ll be here in the morning.” I looked at him in shock. I had fallen asleep around noon, how was that possible? I smacked my forehead with my hand now knowing there was definitely no way I could go home now.

  
   “I’ll just stay a couple hours.” His frown deepened but instead of pressing the point he leaned forward to press his lips to my forehead, leaving me with one last remark as he closed the door behind him.

  
   “Don’t make promises you can’t keep pumpkin.” I watch him leave and wait until his foot falls are out my ears before I stood and stretched, letting the soft white blanket fall to the floor. I seated myself back into my chair, pulling my legs up so I was cross-legged. I shook my mouse and the computer resurrected itself from sleep, the bright lights causing me to squint and my brain to pound painfully against my skull. The mail window popped up in the corner, antagonizing me with three unread messages from Nat and one from Clint. Usually email was a last resort used only when I didn’t answer my phone. I ignored them, along with the nagging thought to check my phone.

  
   I don’t know how long I sat in front of the screen, typing feverishly away on a report that wasn’t due for three more weeks but I liked to be ahead. I felt my eyes droop a hundred times but I fought against sleep even resorting to pinching my arms just to finish a sentence. At some point, I lost the fight, my body just too exhausted to keep going.

  
   Again I was awoken by the uneasy feeling of another body in the room. If I never woke up to that feeling again it would be too soon. My eyes fought against my brain’s instance to open them and it took me far too long to focus on the figure seated in front of me. When the still slightly blurry shape of Steve came into focus I remained surprisingly calm. My mind was racing with angry thoughts but my physical exhaustion kept it from projecting the thoughts into actions. All I managed to say was a very unconvincing “Get out Rogers.”

  
  A large cup of coffee was placed in front of my face that was currently stuck to the surface of my desk. I flicked my eyes over to the cup and back to him. The angry expression from earlier was gone, the one he wore now was unreadable to me. He looked tired though, dark circles starting to peek through his normally perfect skin. “A peace offering.” His voice was even and low, which was distracting me from my anger. I tried to ignore him and let my eyes slide shut again, hoping if I waited long enough he’d leave. “They know you pretty well at that 24 hour coffee joint down the block.” When I didn’t so much as crack an eyelid open he continued anyway. “I told the dame at the counter I was pickin up coffee for a friend a’mine. I told her I figured she might know you, seemed like your kinda place. I told her what you looked like and she gave me this. Called it a red-eye special.”

  
   “Why are you here? Come to shred more of my work? Go ahead, I don’t care.” I still refused to look at him or the stupid coffee that I wanted to chug. I unstuck my face a little just so I could get the wild tangle of hair off my face. It really was time for a haircut. He sighed loudly through his nose which made me think I just might be getting under his skin which brought me some inner peace.

  
   “Look, I’m really sorry about that. I don’t know- I don’t usually act like that.”

  
   “Like a hulking Neanderthal?” Another sigh.

  
   “Yeah, you could say that. I shouldn’t have done that, and I really am sorry. If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, just say the word.” I groaned and peeled my face off the desk, fully aware I probably looked like living death. I looked thoughtfully at the coffee and back to him before grabbing it and drinking deeply. He looked pleased and it made me want to throw it in the trash.

  
   “Go home Rogers, you look like hell.” He quirked a golden brow at me and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, waving him off instead.

  
   “I don’t… sleep very well. I get these terrible-“

  
   “Nightmares?” I dragged my eyes slowly up to meet his. I’m not sure why I felt the need to finish his sentence, other than I knew the feeling all too well. Too afraid to sleep in the dark, no matter how familiar the setting. I could only imagine the feeling of having them in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar apartment, in an unfamiliar time. He looked surprised at my interjection, but nodded jerkily in agreement.

  
   “You too?” His tone was nervous, like he didn’t want to pry. I nodded, taking another drink of my steaming beverage. “Trust me, I don’t like doing this to myself. I am a workaholic, but it would be nice to do it in the daylight hours like everyone else.”

  
   “Wanna talk about it?” He shifted in his seat, resting his elbows on his thighs with his chin resting in his massive palm. He looked more exhausted like this. I looked at him over the plastic lid of the coffee cup for a moment, considering his offer.

  
   “I appreciate the offer Rogers, but the stuff that goes on in this head… I don’t think you’d be able to understand it.” I tapped my finger against my temple wincing at the pain it caused. Apparently the headache had been resistant my nap.

  
“Right” he nodded and laughed humorlessly. “Man out of time.” I placed the cup down on the desk and ran a hand through my hair.

  
  “No, actually that’s not it at all. It’s… complicated.”

  
  “I guess I shouldn’t expect you to trust me. I mean it’s not like you know that well.” There was truth in his words but he still looked a little put out.

  
   “It isn’t a matter of trust really. I- maybe one day we can talk about me, but now’s not really the best time. How about you? Wanna spill your guts?” My tone was teasing dragging a smile from him before he frowned again.

  
   “War, death, ice. It’s usually a lot of the same thing.” I smiled sadly and for whatever reason I slowly extended my hand over the desk, an invitation that shocked him if the look on his face was any indication. He accepted it anyway and placed his hand in mine. “So… you trust me?” I squeezed his hand once before releasing it and leaning back in my chair.

  
   “My trust is hard-won Rogers. I’m not entirely sure I’m worth the effort it takes.” He mouth turned downward once more and he shook his head. “Well, I’ve got it on pretty good authority that you’re a pretty decent friend.” I scoffed and bit the inside of my cheek nervously.

  
  “Who’s feeding you lies?” He innocently shrugged his shoulders as he fell back in the the chair so he was slightly reclining. “Probably shouldn’t say, but in the interest of earning your trust, it was Agent Romanov.” I smiled to myself at the thought of the sassy woman.

  
  “Well, she was my first friend here. The first day I met her in training, I think she was genuinely trying to kill me.”

  
“So how exactly did that lead to a friendship?” He asked, clearly not understanding the smile stretched across my face. I yawned widely holding up one finger letting him know I planned to continue.

  
   “I flipped her on her back and put a knife to her throat.” Steve didn’t seem to know how to react and I laughed easily at his expression. “We’ve been inseparable ever since.”

  
   “Well you tried to kill me today, must be doing something right.” I clutched the coffee cup again and held it to my chest after draining the rest of the liquid from inside. “The coffee is a good start. As long as you keep your caveman hands off my books.” He raised his hands in both surrender and agreement. “You have my word.” I yawned again and felt my eyes growing heavy once more. The smile he had previously worn sunk into a frown. “Let me take you home Stark.” The words were spoken so softly I barely heard them. I quirked a mischievous grin at him. “I’m not that kind of girl, Rogers.” He was so easy to turn red it was sad.

  
   He rose swiftly from his seat and I thought I’d made him mad again but he disproved that theory by holding his hand out to me. “I can drive myself.” I rested my hand in his and allowed him to pull me easily from the chair. I had to steady myself and shake my limbs out to get the feeling back in them. I was so stiff I could hardly move. “Ya know I really don’t think you can. You can hardly move.” I could already see where his mind was going as he started to bend at the waist, wrapping a large arm around my waist. I quickly shoved him off and took a couple steps back.

  
   “You’re not carrying me. I’ll let you drive me home, but I’m gonna walk.” He backed off and let me lead him to the door after collecting my back back which he politely offered to carry. I declined as it was mostly empty anyway. With every step down the deserted hallways my feet felt like they were getting ten pounds heavier and I found myself lagging further and further behind Steve. When he realized I wasn’t next to him anymore, he turned back and rolled his eyes. He waited patiently for me catch up, keeping quiet all the while.

   When I finally caught up he put a hand on my arm to stop me. He crouched down and flicked his head towards his back. “You’re kidding.” He groaned and repeated his earlier motion. “Just get on. I promise I won’t tell anybody.” I worried my bottom lip momentarily debating how much embarrassment I could handle in a day. I sighed and placed my hands on his shoulders and hopped a little to position myself higher on his back. He easily caught my legs, hooking them around his arms. Once he was sure I was secure he set out again. I let my chin rest on his shoulder as I bounced lightly against his back, feeling my eyes sliding shut. His body was so warm and his shirt was so soft that it was hard to fight the pull of sleep. He kept me on his back the entire way to the garage, including the elevator ride.

  
   “You’re much more compliant when you’re tired.” I hummed against his back in response. “Mm, don’t worry Rogers, I’ll be back to my unbearable self soon enough.” His back rumbled from the quiet laughter. I snuggled my head into his neck earning me a quick pat on the thigh in response. “Kinda sweet too.” I kicked my foot against the side of his thigh in annoyance. “M’dad called me a little rage monster earlier. I don’t think sweet is a fitting word for me.” I forced the words out through a yawn and he chuckled again.

  
   He stopped walking and carefully lowered me down to my feet. “Where’s your car?” I looked left and right but I only saw my sedan and a motorcycle. Realization bloomed quickly in my tired brain. “Ohhh ho ho no. Absolutely not.” I started backing towards my car, keys already in hand but he was faster than me. My keys were quickly snatched from my hands as he tried to coax me to the bike.

  
   “Oh c’mon! You’re not scared are ya?”

  
   “Who the hell gave you a license? I’m sure you have to repeat driver’s ed after 70 years.” He shook his head at the ground and swung a tree trunk leg over the bike. Damn he looked good on that bike. “I’ve got your keys and I ain’t givin em back so you either get on or you stay here.” I tried to be tough and stand my ground but I was cold and tired and really wanted to crash so I defeatedly made my way to the bike. “You’re a real bastard.” I swung one leg over , mimicking his movements. “Yeah, yeah I know.” The bike roared to life and my hands flew behind me to grab the back of the seat, ready to hold on for dear life. His hands shot back and before I could resist the pull, he’d settled my arms around his waist. He shouted something over his shoulder that sounded like “hold on” but I didn’t have time for a witty reply before he kicked off and started for the garage exit.

  
   Despite my initial fears, he really was a pretty good driver and only scared me a couple of times which I was fairly sure he did on purpose. I kept my head up but ducked low behind his back to shield my eyes from the wind. I could smell his cologne from here, which I hadn’t noticed on the earlier piggy-back ride through the halls. It was spicy, but clean smelling, like freshly washed laundry, my perfume had added in its own floral elements into the mix.

  
   When he brought the bike to a stop and cut the engine I finally pulled my head up to look around. Nothing here looked familiar at all. Steve dismounted the bike easily and held his hand out to help me off. I accepted it, still very distracted by my surroundings. “Where are we?” He looked back when he noticed I wasn’t following him towards the entrance of a large brick apartment building.

  
   "Brooklyn? Never been here? Thought you were a New Yorker?”

  
   “One, I’m a transplant. Two, no I’ve never been here. Three, what is this place?” He gently wrapped his hand around my upper arm and dragged me towards the metal door. “It’s my apartment. Well, not the whole building obviously. I hope you’re not mad, it’s just that my place is closer and I didn’t want you falling off the bike if you fell asleep.” I nodded dumbly, not sure why I couldn’t summon an argument from my throat. I stayed quiet as he led me up the stairs to the second floor stopping at the end of the hallway and fishing his keys out of his pocket.

  
   The door opened to reveal a small, but nice apartment. I was envious of all the exposed brickwork that came in to view as he flicked the lights on. He kicked off his shoes and strode past me casually dropping his keys on the kitchen counter. The space was clean and everything was put in its proper place. I guess I was expecting a messy bachelor pad, but he was a soldier after all.

  
   "Hey, you gonna stand in the doorway all night?” I shook my head to clear my brain as his voice flowed through my ears. I slowly removed my shoes and my black windbreaker hanging it up on the hooks by the door. I slowly walked through the apartment, suddenly very unsure what I was doing here. Steve had disappeared somewhere in the back of the apartment so I continued to poke around. He had a nice little record collection and a true to his time record player, but nothing else seemed personal in the whole place. My eyes fell on a stack of boxes in the corner. There were two stacks each piled five high like cardboard high rises.

  
   “Those got dropped off last week. Apparently the right people took good care of my stuff for me. I haven’t started going through them yet.” I gave him a smile I hoped came across as supportive. “You’ll do it when you’re ready. No one expects you to just jump right back into it, you know. Well, not everyone at least.” He nodded and I took notice of the small stack of clothes he had tucked under his arm. He followed my eyes to them and held them out towards me, gesturing for me to take them.

  
   “They’re gonna be too big but I figure it beats sleeping in jeans. I’m gonna take the couch. The bathroom is the first door, my room's the second.” He pointed the way down the narrow hallway. I quickly declined his offer.

  
   “Absolutely not. I’ll take the couch, there’s no way you’ll fit on that thing.” It wasn’t that the couch was particularly small. It was actually quite large and very overstuffed but Steve was quite a bit larger than me. Before I could blink he was behind me, nudging me toward the bathroom. “Trust me, I’ve spent quite a few nights on it. I don’t mind.” I decided the argument could wait until after I was changed. I made quick work of shedding the clothes I’d been wearing for two days now and slipping into the way too large gray sweats and white T-shirt that hid no part of the orange bra I’d decided to wear. I groaned inwardly but nothing could be done for it now.

  
   When I came out of the bathroom Steve was dressed similarly but his sweats were black and his shirt a deep blue. Maybe I could ask him to switch shirts? He was tossing a couple pillows on the couch a blanket already resting on the cushions. I sighed in defeat, too tired to argue. I walked back to the front door to fish my phone from the depths of my bag hesitating before entering the passcode. 20 new text messages, most from Natasha. I groaned, catching Steve’s attention. He sidled over to me and peered over my shoulder curiously. “Everything alright?” I had skimmed the first few messages, not bothering to read any further as most of them said the same thing. “Just Nat threatening my life. Nothing new.” I mumbled under my breath as I quickly tapped out an all encompassing reply.

  
   " _I’m fine, I’m safe. I’m exhausted, just now getting to bed. Talk tomorrow”_. I finally took notice of the time as the message sent. 2:28 A.M. I hoped I wouldn’t wake her. I had the thought I should probably send one off to Tony to keep him from sending out the national Guard when he wouldn’t be able to find me. I ticked off a similar reply to Tony only adding in the fact that I was staying with a friend for the night.

  
   “She worries about you.” Steve’s sleepy voice was even deeper than it was earlier and I shuddered a little as his breath tickled my neck as he continued to peer over my shoulder. “Hmm… we’re friends now, huh?” I shot him a threatening look over my shoulder, ignoring his comment. “Natasha wastes her time worrying about me. I can take care of myself.” Steve huffed out a laugh, obviously doubting my words. “I don’t think it’s that. She cares about you.” His words made me feel a little guilty for blowing her off all day. “She… she’s like a sister to me. The two of us were kind of made for each other. Bitchy, guarded, dry humored. Match made in friendship heaven.”

  
   Once the messages were sent I tucked the phone back into my bag and turned to face Steve who had shuffled his way to the couch and under the blanket. I took a seat in the chair to the right of him causing him to raise an eyebrow. “The bed’s that way.” He jerked his thumb behind his head towards his bedroom. I huffed at the statement. “Bold of you to assume I’m tired.” He looked at me slightly annoyed. “Don’t be _bitchy_. Go.” It was an order, but his tone was nothing but gentle.  
I begrudgingly slid out of the chair towards his bedroom, flipping the light switch off as I went.

   “Goodnight Rogers.”

  
   “Goodnight Stark.”

  
    His bedroom was much the same as the rest of the small apartment. Everything was just so. His queen size bed was expertly made, topped with an army green comforter and two heavenly looking pillows. I slowly peeled back the comforter and slid into the warm cocoon. The entire thing smelled like his cologne, that spicy fresh smell from earlier. I snuggled deeply into the bedding, letting the now familiar smell lull me to sleep.

  
  For once, the cries that drew me from sleep were not my own. It took me a few moments to orient myself, completely forgetting where I was until the familiar scent brought me back to reality. I thought I had imagined the sounds until they came through the cracked door again. I swung my legs out of the bed, careful to avoid tripping over the much too long sweats. I rushed through the door and into the small living area where Steve was sleeping. He was crunched up on the couch like I assumed he would be but what worried me now were the deep lines etched into his face. He looked pained and I felt my heart wrench as a tear slipped out from under his ridiculously long lashes. I stepped towards the couch, conflicted on how to handle this. Another quiet sob made my mind up for me and I settled myself into the small space on the couch beside him.

  
   “Rogers.” I whispered quietly to him. He continued to twist around on the couch nearly knocking me off a couple times. “Rogers come on wake up, it’s just a dream.” The only response was a couple more tears streaking down his face. My heart couldn’t take seeing him like this, even after our rumble this afternoon. I hesitantly placed one hand on his wet cheek and I carded another through his hair. “Steve, Steve wake up.” The sound of his first name coupled with the touch finally began to draw him out of the nightmare. His blue eyes opened slowly, trying to make my figure out in front of me. I smiled sadly at him as I continued my ministrations in his hair. “There you are.” He drew a shaky breath through his lips, my gentle coaxing reminding him to take deep breaths. He laid his hand over the one I had resting on his cheek still.

   He closed his eyes again but continued to take in deep breaths his chest still slightly heaving. “Thank you.” His words were barely a whisper but I heard them. I swiped my thumb over his cheek bone, catching another disobedient tear as I went.  
When I was convinced I had successfully lulled him back to sleep, I cautiously stood from the touch, careful not to jostle him. I nearly shrieked as a hand enveloped my wrist with a desperate grip. “Kitty, stay. Please.” His eyes were open again, boring into mine with heart-breaking grief shining in them. What the hell was I doing? How did I get to this point? Me and this… specimen had a rocky relationship at best. We fought, we flirted, we repeated. Was this really something I wanted to feed into? I resigned myself to the fact that despite all of this, the man with the breaking heart in front of me was my friend and I couldn’t leave him alone.

  
   “Steve, there is not enough room on this couch for the two of us.” His face fell a little and started to pull his hand away from my wrist but I was quick to catch it in my own. I didn’t give myself time to consider my actions, just gently jerked his arm, signaling him to get off the couch. He complied, letting me lead him to the bedroom. When he reached the bed I gently shoved him onto it and again his hand was wrapped around my wrist. “Stay, please.” I rolled my eyes and pried his fingers off my skin. “I am you big dummy. Lay down.” Even my teasing didn’t make him smile and my heart broke all over again.

   He slowly lowered his body onto the bed so he was resting on his side. I pulled the comforter over him as he watched me through heavily-lidded eyes. When he was sufficiently tucked in I lowered myself onto the other side, pulling the blankets up to my chin.

  
   I remained still for a few minutes, just listening to his still slightly ragged breathing while my eyes tracked along the blank ceiling. I could tell he was still awake after at least twenty minutes. He was completely still but I could practically feel the anxiety rolling off him. I rolled onto my side taking in the sight of his broad back. I hesitantly reached out and began to slowly run my nails up and down the length of his back. He had tensed at first but slowly melted into the touch. A contented  hum made his back rumble beneath my fingers. I kept up the scratching, sometimes pressing my fingertips into spots I could feel tension in. When he seemed relaxed enough I scooted close enough to snake my arm around his ribs hoping I wouldn’t overstep any boundaries. Large fingers pushed into mine, applying pressure until I spread them far enough apart for them to slip between.

  
   Just as I was drifting off into slumber a feather light kiss brushed against the back of my hand followed by a light squeeze. I smiled to myself in the dark and moved towards him just enough to bury my nose in his back, letting the comforting scent send me into sleep.

 

 


End file.
